[ Fᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴏɴ @WᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅAsɪᴀɴFᴀɴᴛᴀsʏ, @Fᴀɴᴛᴀsʏ, @Aᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ @ᴍʏᴛʜᴀɴᴅʟᴇɢᴇɴᴅ ]
Wᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ Iɴᴅɪᴀ Aᴡᴀʀᴅs 2021 Wɪɴɴᴇʀ (Tʜᴀᴛ Sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ Qᴜᴇsᴛ)
ONC 2021 Lᴏɴɢʟɪsᴛᴇʀ
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As mysterious flash-floods rising from a dam reservoir begin drowning the town of K...
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The maze of large corridors made by stone walls wound before her, circumventing the sanctum of the Mirror Temple in the hills of Kedho.
Inside the hundred pillared pavillions rested temple-goers and circular embankments enclosed the roots of the great, ancient banyans whose branches fanned across the sky. On their hanging roots swung children. Heart-shaped leaves with long apexes and long stalks littered the temple walkway. The air smelled of the offerings presented to the goddess; camphor, butter, ghee, honey, sugar, incense, frankincense, sandalwood, flowers and tropical fruits.
People clad in their best set of clothes nudged past each other to complete their ritualistic revolutions around the temple. Ladies of the court wearing glittering blouses and heavily embroidered long skirts made of the finest Siragatheyan silk walked in pairs. They carried copper flower baskets with floral offerings for the Mirror Mother, within which marigolds, holy basil sprigs, oleander blooms, hibiscuses and lotuses bounced. Large earrings designed like little cages or half-moons swung on their ears while dozens of bangles chattered on their wrists. Peasants were clothed in more modest wear, eager to pay their respects to the goddess and be off to work on a busy weekday.
Daminey leaned her head against the stone pillar of a pavilion as she watched the traffic move along. Mounted upon her right ear was a new communication crystal, petalled in the likeliness of a rose. She waited for the ringing call to connect as she hung her fractured right foot over the edge of the pavilion and drew a long breath. She had undergone two full days of meditation in the temple, and frankly, she thought she would need a week more to function properly.
Daminey turned to look at an old warrior sage meditating in the Padmāsana, the lotus position a few feet away- her companion in peace for the last two days. The stability of his posture came from years of discipline and training in the thick forested mountains of Gaandharvey far south of Kedho. His scarred fingers worked away on the glass beads of his rosary, while his lips chanted an ode to the Great Hunter of the Stars, the son of the Mirror Mother. Matted white hair tied in a top knot kept it from getting in the way of his concentration. Daminey was momentarily blinded by the glint from the blade of his whip-sword caught in the morning sun.
The call connected and the voice jolted her upright. Her body stiffened when Archmage Vātika greeted her and informed her about the injured builder's system failure and his slip into a night of sleep he would never wake up from. Archmage Vātika delivered the news with a voice so placid that it prevented her from cutting the call and relapsing into social isolation.
Both Hima and the sailor, Amanthey had survived thankfully.
The sage's eyes opened when her voice cracked and he saw her fingers twisting themselves into knots over the fabric of her pants. He cleared his throat, attracting her attention and nodded at her. He made a series of gestures, a palm pushing air outwards from the mouth and then hitting his chest. Daminey nodded, closed her eyes and followed his command; she took deep, slow breaths through her mouth to silence her fight-or-fight-reflexes. She didn't know the name of the technique the Gaandharveyan warrior sage had taught her the previous day, but she had to admit it being very useful so far.
